


A Bit of Earth

by Amythe3lder



Series: Irregular Pieces [28]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, Mollcroft, Prompt Fill, Spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amythe3lder/pseuds/Amythe3lder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt: Spring</strong><br/>Their eyes met in the reflection, and it was then that Mycroft Holmes committed his error: he spoke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bit of Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Little darling  
> I feel that ice is slowly melting  
> Little darling  
> It seems like years since it's been clear  
> "Here Comes the Sun"-The Beatles

She really should have put it together.

Two evenings before her thirty-eighth birthday, Molly Hooper was in her partner’s study. She had just put his copy of Will Cuppy’s _The Decline and Fall of Practically Everybody_ back on the shelf and was trying to pick a new book to borrow, and waffling endlessly. She was tempted to give up her selection process and try to read two at once, but she hesitated. Her last attempt in secondary school had resulted in a strange- if oddly satisfying- dream in which Granny Weatherwax had wandered into the plot of _Vile Bodies_. It crossed her mind that there were worse dreams to be had than those in which a sensible grump gave everyone a stern talk, but as she heard the footfalls of her own curmudgeon, she remembered that there were better ones, too.

She smiled at the feel of Mycroft’s careful fingers smoothing across her shoulder. He reached over their heads with the other hand and pulled down a horticultural reference which he passed to her before stepping back and nudging her along. She went with him, curious what he was on about. He led her toward the glass door that opened on the porch and the back garden below, still dormant in the remnants of winter. His arms came around her, sleeves concealing his generous sprinkling of freckles, and she leaned back into him until she could feel his waistcoat buttons through her blouse. Their eyes met in the reflection, and it was then that Mycroft Holmes committed his error: he spoke. “The gardener awaits your direction, once you have a plan.” He sounded cautious and wobbly, as he always did when he requested her assistance.

Molly nodded down to the book in her hands, one corner of her mouth already pulled up in serious consideration of this task.

The following month saw Molly honouring the start of spring by turning up the soil and repositioning the large rocks around the raised beds. The older lady Mycroft employed to see to the upkeep of his plants had been diligent in years past, and pale purple crocuses and bright daffodils were already peeking out into the chilly air. She stood and climbed the steps to the lower deck, damp earth still clinging to the knees of her denim trousers as she accepted a mug of tea from her lover. He inquired as to her progress, and she told him of her schemes. “I hope it’s okay?” she asked.

Mycroft replied, “Whatever you think is best,” but his brow furrowed in puzzlement before he took a sip of his tea.

“Only,” she continued, “I don’t want to mess it up.” She brushed a twig from the hem of her jumper, a little concerned that his non-committal attitude was masking disapproval. If he didn’t care for the adjustments she was proposing, he would be too polite to say so.

“Any way that you see fit to arrange things in your garden will be fine, Miss Hooper. You needn’t worry about having to answer for it to anyone.”

Her brain stumbled to a stop. “How’s that now?”

He fixed her with a sharp stare, then burst out laughing. “Molly,” he began, and that was all he could manage for a moment. When he could better contain his mirth, he tried again. “You believed I was delegating a project? I meant it as a _gift_!”

Well, that made more sense. Marginally. “You’re giving me your back garden?”

“I have done, weeks ago. The window-boxes in the front are also yours to claim.” He smiled down at her.

She wondered whether he was teasing about the last part, but felt certain he was in earnest either way. She mused, “If you’d waited until my birthday, I might have caught on sooner.”

“Ah, it wasn’t a birthday present,” he prodded, and Molly groaned when she realised what day it had been. Contrite at having completely missed the point, she did the only thing she could think of and pulled him into a hug, releasing him almost instantly when she remembered the dirt on her jeans. He shook his head once in denial and drew her back in. “Happy anniversary.”

**Author's Note:**

> Granny Weatherwax is a character from the Discworld series by the late great Terry Pratchett. _Vile Bodies_ by Evelyn Waugh is a satire about the distressingly optimistic behavior of young people on the eve on the Second World War. I recommend the first for funny/poignant and the second for historical hindsight and facepalming. _The Decline and Fall of Practically Everybody_ is delightful in just about every way.


End file.
